


Forbidden Rendezvous

by perictione (leclairage)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: A Maximum & Passionwheels Story, Date Night, Discussions of sex work, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pornography, Pre-War, The Things We Do for the Revolution, an indecent proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leclairage/pseuds/perictione
Summary: “It’s porn,” Megatronus growled. “He’s talking about pornography,Passionwheels.”
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime, Megatron/Orion Pax
Comments: 31
Kudos: 329
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Forbidden Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to MegOP Week 2020! It works for the Pre-War prompt, but I’m posting on the last day, so I guess for the dealer’s choice prompt I wrote a Pornstar AU?
> 
> Enjoy!

They were close to the door when Megatronus suddenly pulled Orion close to him with a powerful grip on his arm. Whispering intimately in his audial, the gladiator said, “I forgot, they won’t ask for ID chips, but we will have to give names here. Don’t give your real designation.”

That was a surprise. 

“Couldn’t we get in trouble doing that?”

“They don’t care who you really are, they just need some kind of record. Legal stuff,” Megatronus said. “Quick, Orion!” 

Orion nodded, but his apprehension must have shown on his face. 

He tried to think frantically, but they were only one person back in the line to enter the bar—or was it a club? The distinction between the two in Kaon was mysterious to him. Megatronus hadn’t explained it in detail, just that he’d wanted to go out. It had actually been fairly romantic, Megatronus rumbling in that low, sonorous voice about wanting to take Orion for ‘a night on the town.’ But what was a good name? Everything that came to mind was the name of someone he already knew—

And then they were at the entrance, tucked discreetly into an alley, but clearly well-known to the locals. The bot leaning in the doorway looked over Orion critically, while managing to also look bored. “Name?” he asked.

Megatronus loomed over Orion’s shoulder to say in a voice full of latent menace, “Maximum.” 

Orion looked over at the big mech and shivered. He was surprised the doorbot didn’t show any sign of recognizing the celebrity gladiator. Maybe he was just being polite, but maybe he really didn’t. Kaon wasn’t a small city, and they’d come pretty far from the arena to get to this place. Perhaps Megatronus had chosen it because he wouldn’t be recognized here. Orion didn’t understand how anyone wouldn’t know him immediately. He was so big and strong, and his frame and plating so unique and elegant, yet menacing. How could anyone not recognize him on sight? Orion was looking forward to this evening out, but suddenly he was even more eager for the evening to be over. It had been more than a year since friendship had turned into something more, but Orion still couldn’t get enough of—

“Name?” repeated the doorbot, clearly annoyed.

Orion blinked. “Ah,” he said, feeling Megatronus tense behind him. He blurted out, “I’m—Passionwheels!”

The doorbot’s optics widened and he gave Orion another slow once over that made Orion very immediately realize what kind of name, exactly, that sounded like, but finally he moved out of the entrance and let them pass. 

Once they were inside, Megatronus groaned quietly. “Passionwheels? That’s the best you could come up with?”

Which, yes, he realized now that the choice was ill-advised, but still. He said, “Well, it’s better than ‘Maximum.’ Thousands of bots must be named that.”

“Exactly,” Megatronus said, amused, “it’s a _disguise_.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t have a lot of experience with this.”

“Don’t worry. It’s as good a name as any. The point is to keep our real names off a government record.” Megatronus smiled down at him, optic ridges raised, and chuckled, “Alright, Passionwheels, let’s get a drink.”

The interior of the establishment was big and dark, lit by softly glowing lights in alcoves and the glow of optics and biolights from the clientele. Orion saw that there was a dance floor—a popular one—and he thought he spotted a stage. Some tables and chairs were near the bar, and then a variety of couches in little shadowed alcoves lined the walls. He was one of the shorter mechs in the room, he found. Music quite different from the most popular releases in Iacon was playing, and he assumed this must be a selection of Kaonite favorites. It wasn’t an insanely crowded room, but Megatronus still cut a swathe through the crowd as they approached the bar. No one seemed overawed by him, simply moving out of the way of a big mech. 

Confident, Megatronus waved the bartender over and ordered two drinks of something Orion had never heard of. 

While they waited, the gladiator leaned back against the bar, letting his hips shift into a stance that drew Orion’s gaze down in appreciation. He gave Orion an assessing glance. 

“Come here often, _Passionwheels_?” Megatronus said, letting a gleeful smirk take over his face. 

Orion groaned. “Would you stop teasing me—I said the first thing that came into my processor.”

Megatronus laughed, and accepted two glasses from the bartender that were filled with a mysterious, glowing pink liquid. “I’m curious. What were you thinking about that made ‘Passionwheels’ your first idea?”

Orion hid his face and smiled, embarrassed. “I suppose you might say I was thinking about my passion for you,” he said. He accepted the drink and took a sip.

Megatronus’s smile, and the way he reached out with his free hand to tilt Orion’s chin up, made the embarrassment worth it. “It’s really not such a bad choice. After all, you’re pretty enough to be named ‘Passionwheels,’ if you know what I mean.”

In the midst of his embarrassment, Orion said, “You mean, I’m pretty enough to be…”

Totally unembarrassed, as usual, Megatronus took a long, lingering swallow of his drink and made an affirmative noise. “When you first visited me—long before we were as _close_ as we are now—one of my neighbors, Skullcruncher, I think? confronted me, demanding to know how I’d been able to afford a night with such a captivatingly lovely Iaconian entertainer.”

Orion reset his optics and frowned. “Having met him, I’m sure Skullcruncher did _not_ use those exact words.” 

Megatronus smiled as he took another drink. “I might be taking some poetic license. Anyway, you should be flattered. He thought you must be very high end.”

“Oh, good,” Orion laughed. Whatever was in the high grade they were drinking, it tasted delicious, and it was making him feel warm and more at ease. “Tell me, what should I have been charging you for the pleasure of my company all this time? Maybe I’ll send you an invoice.”

Megatronus laughed out loud, amusement clear in his optics. He set his mostly empty drink on the bar and reached for Orion’s waist. “So bold, my little archivist. But don’t you know I’ve already paid for ‘services rendered?’” 

Orion gave him an incredulous look, but allowed himself to be pulled in until their frames were flush together and he had to tilt his head all the way back to meet his lover’s optics. Trying to look reproachful but unable to keep the smile off his face, he said, “Alright, I’ll play this game. What ‘currency’ have you been paying me in, then? Overloads?”

Megatronus laughed again. Then he quieted, and leaned down the long way it took to reach Orion’s height and rested his forehead on Orion’s gently. With a small, sincere smile, he said, “No. After all, how could I possibly owe you more in trade, when I have already allowed you to steal my spark?”

It really was an _awful_ line, but Orion couldn’t help being charmed, knowing how much his lover meant it. He hummed a wordless noise in happiness, and tilted his face to meet Megatronus’s lips in a gentle kiss. 

When they parted, Megatronus took Orion’s drink and set it on the bar. “Would you like to dance, Passionwheels?”

Orion giggled. “Why yes, Maximum, I would.”

And Megatronus led them out onto the floor. 

The dancing wasn’t very different from in Iacon, but it was different enough that Orion kept looking around curiously—though his optics always strayed back to Megatronus. Orion never tired of watching him move. And he was doing _truly_ the most amazing things with his hips.

Over and over, song after song, whatever the tempo that was playing, Megatronus found a way to make it filthy with the way he moved. Twists and rocks and swivels, fast or slow, all making his hips and abdominal plating shift in a mesmerizing pattern. Like everything about his lover, Orion thought he would never get enough.

Though Megatronus got the most insufferable smirk on his face whenever he caught Orion staring. Like he wasn’t doing it on purpose. 

“See something you like?”

“Yes,” Orion said defiantly, and then in a teasing tone, “Maybe you should consider bringing some of these moves into the berth, hm?”

Megatronus laughed again. Orion loved making him laugh, and grinned up at him, sharing the joke. It was a shame they couldn’t really dance and kiss at the same time. Then Megatronus caught him up around the waist and drew him off the ground and into his arms. Which neatly solved the problem of kissing, but Orion did have some dignity left, lying around somewhere. 

“Me—Maximum,” he complained in between kisses. “I refuse to dance with you while you’re carrying me.”

“But if I don’t carry you, how could I do this?” Megatronus said, unrepentantly cheating by dipping his head and sucking on the cable in Orion’s neck the way he knew he liked best.

Biting back a moan, Orion tried, “We could always sit down. There are those couches—oh, hm, yes—and you’d have easy access to a lot of things there.”

Megatronus was very pleased with this suggestion, and carried him all the way across the room. Embarrassing as it was, Orion couldn’t help laughing. Soon, Megatronus was crowding him against the corner of a couch and very thoroughly exploring every part of his neck that made Orion moan when it was kissed. 

It was bliss. 

And somehow, the public location didn’t trouble him. If anything, it made every kiss sweeter. They couldn’t actually interface here, and that kept the usual urgency at bay. He could focus all his attention on slow kisses and spreading his hands luxuriously over Megatronus’s chest. 

But after a while, Orion noticed something odd as he looked with unfocused optics over Megatronus’s shoulder, Someone was looking at them. He didn’t know what the protocol was for this sort of thing in Kaon, but it seemed rude to watch two people in an embrace. It wasn’t like they were the only ones in the club who’d found a quiet corner to kiss in. 

He was a smaller mech, thin, not like most Kaonites. In the dark and from a distance, Orion wasn’t sure, but he looked fragile and sophisticated. And he was looking straight at them. 

Orion pushed at his lover’s shoulder. “Meg—Maximum, we’re being watched.”

Grumbling, Megatronus lifted his head and looked to the side. Then the lithe mech did more than just look at them, however. Seeing Megatronus’s glower, he approached. 

With a slight smile that Orion didn’t trust, the visitor said, “Excuse me for intruding. I understand that I am speaking to...Maximum and Passionwheels?” Megatronus growled at him, but the thin mech seemed unfazed. The speaker continued, “You can hardly blame me for noticing you. Such a handsome couple, and so...unique.” His voice was oily, slow, saccharine, and he now wore a slightly larger smile that Orion trusted even less. “I am called Server. Here’s my card.” 

Server handed Orion a small slip of metal. Orion didn’t think he’d ever been handed an actual physical object as a card before. It was usually just an expression—exchanging contact information happened via short-range ping nowadays. Megatronus huffed when he saw it. Orion read the information on the card—there was the bot’s name, his contact frequency, and a description which read, “Specialty Entertainment Acquisition, Talent Producer” and then “SHARE” next to a small logo. 

“I have a proposal for you,” said Server next. 

“I don’t understand,” Orion said. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with your industry—”

“It’s porn,” Megatronus growled. “He’s talking about pornography, _Passionwheels_.”

Oh. _Specialty_ entertainment. 

Server coughed politely. “I see you’ve heard of us. I work with our specialty division. We produce highly sought-after, but unusual material—”

“So you’re with the fetish division,” Megatronus said. 

Server coughed again, and smiled. “Just so,” he said.

Possessively tucking Orion a little closer to his frame, Megatronus let his shoulder plating flare up in an obvious threat display and said in a low, rasping voice, “We aren’t interested.”

With a tiny glimmer of apprehension in his optics, Server nodded at them, and seemed to be moving to go. Orion was still so thunderstruck that he wasn’t quite thinking clearly, which is why he said, “Out of curiosity, what fetish did you, uh, want us for? 

Megatronus groaned almost inaudibly. 

And there was that smooth, oily smile again. Server said, “Cross-caste material has a very, hm, passionate subscriber base.”

Orion choked on nothing. While they were in Kaon it was easy to forget the reason Megatronus almost never visited Iacon. The danger of them slipping up and exposing their illegal relationship was too great. But here, the caste fraternization laws weren’t enforced. 

Server continued, “Of course, if you were to enter into an arrangement with us, we would be very discreet. It would be an exclusive, for our most valued clientele. Ruthenium VIPs only.”

He said it like it ought to mean something, but Orion had no clue. Megatronus stiffened a little. He tightened his grip on Orion’s hip and said, “I won’t tell you again. Not interested.”

Server made a little bow and said, “I see. A pleasure to meet you, Maximum, Passionwheels.” He gave Orion a little wink. “On the back of my card, I’ve noted the fee we propose for your services. It is somewhat negotiable—but as you say, you’re not interested.” With that same smile, he backed away and melted into the crowd on the dance floor. 

Megatronus muttered to himself, “I didn’t know there was a VIP level above ‘palladium.’”

Orion’s finials perked up and he asked with feigned suspicion, “Oh? So you’re familiar with this organization?”

Megatronus scoffed, smiling at him again, “I’ve heard things. Mostly that ‘Share’’s cheapest offerings are well beyond what I can afford.”

Orion patted Megatronus’s hand, still watching Server’s retreat out of the room. Once the thin mech was fully out of sight, Orion started to look at the back of the card, but Megatronus’s hand covered his and blocked his view. “Ori—Passionwheels. Don’t fall for that nonsense. You can’t possibly be tempted to accept.”

Orion rolled his optics and smiled affectionately at his lover. “Of course not, _Maximum_. But don’t you want to see how much our interfacing is worth?”

Megatronus grumbled at him, but it was an ‘I am going to give in to you’ sort of grumble. “Some of the other gladiators have accepted similar ‘offers’—and from what I’ve seen, the money isn’t good enough to justify the hassle. Or the humiliation.”

“I’m not saying we should accept. I’m just curious,” Orion said, giving his lover a kiss on the cheek. 

Megatronus moved his hand off the card. Then he shifted them so Orion was in front of him instead of crowded against the wall, settling him snugly in his lap. Megatronus looked over Orion’s shoulder as he turned the card over. They both read.

Orion felt rather than heard Megatronus’s engine turn over violently.

“Megatronus,” Orion said, forgetting their deception completely, “That’s too many numbers.”

Megatronus didn’t say anything, and his arms had gone tight and frozen around Orion’s waist. 

“He must have added one by mistake,” Orion said. “Or two. Or four.”

They both stared in silence at the sum on the card. 

“Megatronus, say something.”

Megatronus reset his vocalizer. “It has to be a trick. This is unbelievable. Who has this kind of money?”

“If we—” Orion started to say. 

“No,” Megatronus said, and he covered the card again with one big hand. That broke the spell, at least a little. “No, you don’t have to do this. Neither of us have to. I parade myself around for the entertainment of ‘the elite’ often enough as it is. What we have is private, special, we—”

Gently, Orion took Megatronus’s hand in his own. He leaned back against the sturdy wall of his chest and nuzzled him. “We’d have to be careful, in case it is a trick. But Megatronus...we could use this money to start the revolution.”

Megatronus took a deep invent, and Orion felt the wash of warm air over him as he cycled it back out again. With one hand, Megatronus tilted Orion’s face up and back, so they could look into each other’s optics. Another deep vent. Looking seriously down at his lover, Megatronus said, “I’ll think about it. And we’ll ask Soundwave to do some digging.” Then, a wry smile beginning to grace the gladiator’s handsome face, he said, “‘Passionwheels’ can be your stage name.”

  


* * *

  


Optimus Prime was working on a datapad in the Nevada base with the rest of his team around him. 

They’d recovered some encrypted files off the _Nemesis_ on a recent mission. Optimus was working on decrypting the files in sections, but the resulting data was disorganized and impossible to search. They needed to process each file manually.

Each member of the team was working on the project, all of them gathered in the main hanger. Except the children, who were playing with Miko’s phone. Well, Rafael occasionally wandered to look over Bumblebee’s shoulder and ask questions. Even Agent Fowler and June Darby had been kind enough to lend their assistance—though they’d been assigned to sorting visual media only.

Sometimes individuals would ask for group input over a specific file or comment on what they’d found, but overall it was a very peaceful afternoon. 

For a while, at least. 

“Well by Uncle Sam’s star-spangled shorts, isn’t that Megatron?” exclaimed Agent Fowler.

Optimus looked around in alarm before realizing the man must have meant he was in one of the files. Leisurely, Optimus rose and began to approach the human contingent.

“I’m not sure,” said June next to him, “I can see the resemblance—but I didn’t realize he was ever an actor.”

Nearby on the platform, Rafael hurried over to look at Agent Fowler’s jury-rigged Cybertronian data screen. The rest of the team looked up in interest, but were slower to move. 

“What makes you say that?” replied Agent Fowler.

“It just looks a lot like a movie poster,” said June. “Oh, see—it’s not an image, it’s a video file. Here, you have to turn it on.”

That was when Optimus began to suspect.

Just then, Rafael helpfully chimed in by saying, “Oh, the title in Cybertronix is ‘Maximum and—’” Raf frowned. “No, that can’t be right. Bee, does this really say—”

That was when Optimus began to panic.

Restraining himself from actually transforming to get across the hanger just that much faster, Optimus stuck with running inadvisably fast in an indoor environment. In a moment, he was at the platform. One glance at Agent Fowler’s screen was enough to confirm his suspicions. 

Megatronus’s face and frame stared back at him from the image, striking a threatening pose. Like an image from another life—the unusual paint that had been added to his frame, that extravagant fabric wrap, and then hidden behind him was another familiar shape, turned the other way, the face thankfully hidden. Then, the image blinked away, and the video began to play. 

With a strangled yell, Optimus put his entire hand between the screen and Agent Fowler’s face. “Don’t look at that!” he said. 

The humans jerked back in surprise. 

Scrambling for some excuse, Optimus said, “That’s not—it’s not— _I_ will handle this file.”

He heard murmurs and questions as Ratchet and the rest of the team stirred behind him, but he could only ignore them. He shifted the screen away from the prying eyes of the humans, and closed the file. Not quite thinking about what he was doing, he retrieved a personal datapad from his subspace and quickly downloaded the incriminating file. Then he carefully, systematically erased it from the main system. 

Straightening up, Optimus said, “All is well. You can return to what you were doing.” 

Ratchet was saying something behind him, but Optimus nonsensically pretended not to notice. Ratchet probably knew what the name ‘Maximum’ meant already, anyway. Without further explanation, Optimus left the main hanger. 

He held the datapad close to his chest as he walked. Of all the things to find in the Nemesis files… Millennia had passed since it had been recorded, and Megatron had kept it all that time. What had Megatron been _doing_ with it? Optimus stroked the edge of the datapad with one hand. Was he holding onto it for some long-term blackmail scheme? Did he—did he watch it? Did he watch it often? Was he in the habit of just— 

Optimus wasn’t completely sure how to feel about that. But then, Optimus was considering watching it himself. Once, they used to watch the films together. 

As he stepped into the outer corridor, Optimus heard a soft, binary inquiry from Bumblebee, and then Rafael’s innocent reply. “I don’t think I translated it right,” said Raf. “Have you ever heard of ‘Maximum and Passionwheels: Forbidden Rendezvous?’”

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I couldn't help but use 'Maximum' and 'Passionwheels' for another project XD 
> 
> Thank you to [RHplus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RHplus/works) for helping me finish this very much at the last minute! 
> 
> I love comments so much, so I will definitely love yours—let me know what you think! Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/perictione1), and [tumblr](https://perictione.tumblr.com), and [dreamwidth](https://leclairage.dreamwidth.org)!


End file.
